


Secret Lives

by keelhaulrose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelhaulrose/pseuds/keelhaulrose
Summary: Hermione is starting a new relationship, but soon finds they're both holding onto deep secrets.





	Secret Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hermione's Haven Bingo 2019. This is forby B3 square: Hermione/Castiel

    “When do I get to meet this bloke?” Ginny asked, and Hermione was quite happy that their conversation was being held over the phone and not in person where the redhead might have taken offense to Hermione's eye-rolling.

 

    “It's a bit early to be thinking about subjecting him to anyone who is or has ever been a Weasley. This will be our third date, Gin,” Hermione replied with a sigh.

 

    “Ah, yes, the third date,” Hermione could hear the smirk in her friend's face. “Everyone's favorite.”

 

    “Ginevra,” Hermione warned.

 

    “You mean to tell me that you are having him over to your house and you don't plan on shagging him?”

 

    “I'm having him over to my house because there are about two things to do in this town and we've done both. I don't really feel like driving an hour to have dinner somewhere else when I can cook up something here.”

 

    Ginny let off a fake snore.

 

    “Oh, shut it,” Hermione grumbled. “He's the kind of man who doesn't seem to appreciate a fuss. Having him over for dinner and chess, maybe a movie, that seems a lot more up his alley then going off on adventures.”

 

    “Yes, I remember you mentioning he was the silent, awkward type. Not your normal type at all, after my brother.”

 

    “No offense to your brother, but that's part of the appeal.”

 

    “None taken. But I mean it, if this does become serious I want to meet Stan...”

 

    “Steve,” Hermione corrected.

 

    “Right. Steve. I want to meet Steve. You are halfway around the world, you need a familiar face to provide some guidance.”

 

    “And you think that familiar face should be you?”

 

    “Come off it, I'm pregnant and bored.”

 

    “I'm not responsible for either of those conditions, go to Harry for entertainment.” The doorbell rang and Hermione inadvertently gave a tiny little excited smile. “He's here, Gin, I've got to go.”

 

    “Enjoy yourself!” Ginny called as Hermione unceremoniously hung up on her and hurried to the front door. She took a second to straighten her blouse and try to pat down her hair. She opened the door with a smile.

 

    “Hello, Hermione,” he said, holding out a few flowers it was obvious he had picked himself.

 

    “Thank you, Steve,” she said, giving him a kiss on his lightly stubbled cheek before moving to the side to let him in. “They're beautiful.”

 

    “I'm glad you like them,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I wasn't sure if someone who studies plants would want more of them around.”

 

    “Most of my plants are out in the field,” she said, walking into the kitchen to get a tall glass to use as a vase. “It'll be nice to have some around the house.”

 

    “Then I am glad I got them,” he watched her pour a little water into the vase before putting the flowers in and setting it on the middle of her kitchen table.

 

    “Dinner isn't quite ready yet, but I have the chess game set up in the living room,” she said, walking back over and standing in front of him.

 

    “Lead the way,” he replied.

 

    “First thing first,” she smiled before leaning forward and tilting her head up to catch his lips in a quick kiss. When she pulled away she had a smile on her face, relishing the slight tinge of pink to his cheeks. She had met Steve at the gas station he worked in not long after he started, as she was a regular for a cup of coffee and a newspaper. There was something about Steve that had her fascinated, he seemed like the eager-to-please type but there was something behind his blue eyes that signaled that there was much more to the man. So she started chatting with him, and before she could stop herself she had asked him to the local cafe for their first date. It had been unlike any other date she had ever experienced, and she was sure Steve was holding something back (as she was), but they had talked for hours about deeper subjects than she had expected from a gas station attendant, and they got along well enough for a second, and now a third date. Steve was not the overly-affectionate type, their kisses were still restrained and exploratory, but it was almost relaxing compared to the showy, overly-confident men who seemed to be the ones asking her out lately.

 

    “Did you have a good day at work?” she asked, not wanting to dwell on the kiss too long, as she took his hand and led him to the living room.

 

    “I got to help unload a truck today,” he replied. “Refrigerated foods all the way from Texas. I asked how they keep it cold that long, but the driver wasn't one for talking.”

 

    “You know, I never really thought about stuff like that before,” she mused as they sat together on the couch. “I love that you're just so curious about everything.”

 

    “I've never had to think about things like that before,” he admitted. “I guess it's part of learning about... everything.”

 

    She let off a soft chuckle. It was amazing how Steve seemed to be curious about so much, like he had never really experienced it before. Harry and Ron might find it dull but she really did enjoy it when he discussed seemingly mundane tasks in such a way that cleaning a coffee machine sounded almost like an art form. “Did you happen to learn about chess?” she asked.

 

    “I checked out a book from the library about it,” he replied. “I was able to read most of it, so I think I may be ready to play.”

 

    “I'll fill you in if there's anything you need to know,” she assured him. “Though, really, I'm not all that great at it myself. It'll be nice to play somebody who won't trounce me within ten moves.”

 

    She made her first move and they played the first few rounds in silence as they got a feel for each other's strategies. With nearly anyone else Hermione would be loathe to have too much silence in the room so early in a relationship, but with Steve it almost felt natural. It was quiet enough that she could hear her neighbor calling for her husband to come in from the garage and the rumble of a car engine passing slowly by, and she studied the concentrated look on Steve's face as he considered each move.

 

    “How was your trip to the woods today?” he finally asked after the fourth round.

 

    “Brilliant, actually,” she replied with a grin. “I found another specimen not further from the others, and it had some more mature pods I was able to harvest. I've got them drying in the basement now, hopefully I can begin working with them next week.” In the other room she heard the oven timer start to beep. She stood and Steve started to follow her, but she motioned for him to sit back down. “I just have to pull the lasagna out and pop the garlic bread in,” she explained. “Do you need anything?”

 

    “A glass of water, please?” he asked.

 

    “Sure thing,” she nodded, hurrying to the kitchen. She pulled on oven mitts and took the lasagna out of the stove, placing it gently on a trivet waiting on the table. As she turned around she accidentally knocked the table, tipping the vase, which dumped water all over her tablecloth.

 

    “Damn,” she muttered softly, and she checked behind her to make sure Steve hadn't followed her before pulling her wand out of her pocket and flicking it at the vase, which righted itself and filled back up with water as the tablecloth quickly dried. She flicked her wand one more time to send the garlic bread from the counter into the still open oven, which closed itself as she picked up the flowers and put them carefully back in the vase. She looked around the room one more time, assuring herself everything was in order, got Steve his water, and started back towards the living room, but just as she came to the door her front door burst open, and a tall man stepped inside, pointing a gun at her chest. She let off an involuntary yelp, dropping the water, and instinctively pulling her wand from her pocket, pointing it at the man.

 

    “No funny business, sweetheart,” he growled, kicking the door shut behind him.

 

    “Hermione, what's going...” Steve hurried in from the other room but stopped dead as soon as he saw the man. “Dean? What are you doing here?”

 

    “You know this man?” Hermione asked.

 

    “We're best friends, and she's a friggin' witch, Cas,” Dean shot back.

 

    “Dean...” Steve stepped forward, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

 

    “I saw her, Cas. Through the window. She took that wand and sent crap flying around. She's a goddamn witch!”

 

    “Hermione?” Steve looked at her.

 

    Hermione bit her lip. “Since you know...” she trailed off, flicking her wrist slightly. The gun was pulled from Dean's hand and flew into her open one. “He's not wrong,” she said softly, looking into Steve's blue eyes, waiting to see the fear or anger she was expecting to enter them.

 

    “You sure can pick 'em, Cas. First a reaper, now a witch...”

 

    A realization dawned over Hermione, and her chest clenched as she nearly shouted, “A hunter? You're a hunter, Steve?”

 

    “Yes,” Dean replied sharply.

 

    “No,” Steve replied simultaneously. “Dean is, but I am not.”

 

    “Sure you are, Cas, you've helped us lots of times...”

 

    “Why does he keep calling you Cas?” Hermione asked loudly.

 

    “Because that's his name, his _real_ name, not the bullshit he fed you.”

 

    “I don't understand.”

 

    “You don't need to,” Dean shot back. “All you need to know is I've got a witch-killing bullet with your name on it.”

 

    “You do that and the Ministry of Magic will be on your bloody heels before my body is cold,” she snapped. “I'm not like the witches hunters usually deal with, I'm part of a society of witches and wizards that number over a million around the world and have _nothing_ to do with demons.”

 

    “It's true,” Cas replied quietly. “There are witches and wizards out there who don't rely on dark magic, they're born with their gifts.”

 

    “And you never thought to tell me about them?” Dean snapped.

 

    “It never came up.”

 

    “Bullshit, it never...”

 

    “If you're not a hunter, what are you?” Hermione interrupted, and both men turned to look at her. “I was warned extensively about hunters before I moved here, and they don't seem the type to be making friends with non-hunters.”

 

    Castiel sighed and moved in front of her, reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of her face as he looked at her apologetically. “My real name is Castiel, and I am, or rather I was, an angel of the Lord.”

 

    Hermione's body seemed to go numb and for a moment she just stared at him, unable to process what she had just heard. “An angel?” she whispered.

 

    “Yes,” he replied softly. “I recently lost my grace and with it all my powers, so I'm human now, and I decided to live here to adjust to that. I had intended to keep my head down and do my work, but you came in and changed everything.”

 

    “An angel,” she repeated, biting her lip and fighting tears. She took a few deep breaths and held the gun out to Castiel. “I think you should both go now.”

 

    “Hermione,” he murmured, reaching towards her face, but she ducked her head to the side to avoid it.

 

    “Please, go,” she breathed, the tension in her chest threatening to burst and expose every emotion she was having in that moment.

 

    “I'm sorry,” he said softly, gently taking the gun from her and turning towards the door. “Let's go,” he said to Dean.

 

    “Cas...” Dean started to object.

 

    “Now, Dean,” Castiel ordered so firmly that Dean looked surprised for a moment, then he quickly left. Castiel took one last look at Hermione, who was still looking away as a single tear trailed down her cheek. He closed the door and walked towards the street, and as he did Hermione put a few quick protective spells on the house. Then she went into the living room, glaring at the chess set until it flew across the room, scattering pieces everywhere, as she collapsed onto the couch and let her emotions take over.

 

XXXXXXX

 

    “Hermione!” Ginny's excited voice greeted her. “I haven't heard from you in _forever_. How are you?”

 

    “I'm doing well,” Hermione replied shortly. “How are you?”

 

    “Still pregnant, but I've gone from the 'I can't eat anything because the smell makes me sick' phase into the 'I want to eat everything all the time' phase,” she replied with a chuckle. “Before I forget, I went to lunch with Helen Dawlish, she's a Healer working on the long-term spell damage ward, and she told me that the potion you sent had an effect on some of their residents. It didn't heal anyone, but supposedly the Longbottoms can remember their names now.”

 

    “That's brilliant!” Hermione beamed to herself, going outside and sitting on a chair on her back porch. “It's good to know I'm heading in the right direction.”

 

    “That you are. And speaking of which, how is your bloke?”

 

    Hermione sighed. “I haven't talked to him since the last time I talked to you.”

 

    “What?” Ginny cried so loudly that Hermione pulled the phone away from her ear for a second. “What happened?”

 

    “His friend saw me doing magic through the window, and he burst in and exposed me.”

 

    “Bloody hell,” she breathed. “So you had to obliviate them?”

 

    “No, not exactly.”

 

    “What? Hermione! You can't not do that, you could get arrested...”

 

    “They already knew about magic,” Hermione interrupted. “His friend... his friend is a hunter.”

 

    “Sweet Merlin,” Ginny breathed. “I can't imagine that went over well.”

 

    “First time I've ever had a gun pointed at my chest. I can't say I'm keen to experience it again.”

 

    “Does that mean Steve is a hunter, too?”

 

    “No, he isn't,” Hermione shook her head and a pregnant pause settled over them as she debated telling her friend and Ginny waited anxiously to hear what came next. “Everything about him was a lie. His name isn't even Steve, Gin. It's Castiel.”

 

    “Castiel?” Ginny repeated. “Sounds exotic.”

 

    “Try heavenly,” Hermione sighed. “He's an angel, well, a former angel.”

 

    There was a long pause. “Did... did I just hear that right?” Ginny asked softly.

 

    “An angel of the Lord, according to him.”

 

    “Like wings and halos?”

 

    “I'm assuming, though I didn't see any. He said he lost his grace so he's human now.”

 

    “It sounds like a load of cock-and-bull. How do you know he wasn't lying?”

 

    “If you're going to make up something who goes with 'angel'?”

 

    “A mad person?” Ginny suggested.

 

    “I wish I could explain why, but I believe him,” Hermione muttered.

 

    “Even after all the other lies?”

 

    “I know it sounds crazy, but he looked so sincere. And it wasn't like I wasn't lying to him a bit, too.”

 

    Ginny sighed. “So he's gone?”

 

    “I haven't even seen him at the gas station. I heard the manager complaining that he quit and his replacement is a slob.”

 

    “I'm sorry,” Ginny sighed. “You really sounded like you liked him.”

 

    “I really did, Gin. I don't think I've looked forward to spending time with anyone as much as I looked forward to seeing him.”

 

    “So... why is it over?” she said cautiously.

 

    “You're joking, right?”

 

    “Not really. I mean, you said he's human now. You two would have to start from square one on the trust thing since you both had some pretty large secrets, but if you like him that much why should it be over?”

 

    “He's _gone_ , Ginny.”

 

    “You are Hermione Granger and distance has never stopped you before,” she replied firmly. “Plus you've got the phone, and I'm assuming he has one. Use it.”

 

    Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it. “I'm going to get going, Gin,” she said. “I'll send another round of that potion next week.”

 

    “I'm here if you need me,” Ginny assured her.

 

    “I'll talk to you in a few days,” she promised before they said their goodbyes and hung up. Hermione leaned back and closed her eyes, thinking hard. In her mind she started debating her next move, whether it was smart or safe to contact him again, but mostly if she _wanted_ to and even if she did what the next steps might be. She thought so long she missed dinner, and before she knew it she was watching the sun sink low towards the distant mountains on the horizon. Figuring he most likely wouldn't answer she picked up her phone and found his number, and sent him a simple text:

 

_I'm sorry. For everything. I'm not ready for it to be over._

 

    She placed the phone on the table where she would see if it would light up if he replied, but minutes turned to hours and night fell, inky black around her and there was silence. Giving up she stood, starting to go inside, when she heard what sounded like wings flapping behind her. She turned, and saw Castiel standing in the middle of her yard wearing a long trenchcoat and a tie. For a long moment they just stared at each other, neither knowing what to say first.

 

    “You got your grace back, did you?” she asked softly.

 

    “I stole another angel's grace,” he replied.

 

    “Oh,” she bit her lip. “I really should apologize. I can't say that I should have told you I was a witch, because that's against our laws, but I probably should have talked to you then. It's not like we both weren't hiding something.”

 

    “Once I got my, well, some grace back I went and looked you up. I know what you did in your war, and what you've done since then. You were very brave and kind.”

 

    “Thank you,” she said with a little smile.

 

    “I apologize as well. I didn't intend to keep who I am from you for forever, but Dean sort of forced my hand. I felt a connection with you, something I didn't know I had been missing until you were here, and I told myself once we were closer, once the risk of losing you because you knew was less...”

 

    “I get it,” she nodded. “We both had our secrets and that was about the worst way it could have come out.”

 

    “Dean is kind of good at making a mess of things,” he replied with a half-smile.

 

    She took a deep breath. “I'm glad we cleared the air, but it seems I was a bit too late.”

 

    “What do you mean?” he looked confused.

 

    “Well, now that you have your grace back I can hardly think you'd want a mortal like me,” she replied.

 

    “It's unorthodox, but not unheard of,” he replied cautiously. “Most angels don't take time to see the humanity of a single person, because there's so little time for each of them. But that doesn't mean that I don't want that time.”

 

    “Really?” she felt her heart skip a beat.

 

    “I am not going to lie, it will probably be dangerous at times.”

 

    “I've done dangerous. It's not my favorite, but it is nothing I can't work around.”

 

    “Do you think your friends and family would approve?”

 

    “I think that they realize I'm intelligent enough to make my own choices.”

 

    “We'll have to start over, no more secrets between us, but yes, I would be honored to spend what time I can get with you.”

 

    She closed the space between them in two long strides before reaching up to crash her lips into his.

 

    "How about some chess?" she asked.

 

    "Lead the way," he replied with a smile.


End file.
